Who You Calling 'Damsel?
by elisheva
Summary: Lisbon is calling out for a little help but don't you DARE call her a damsel in distress.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A new one has popped out! Beware, these character (for the most part) aren't mine. Enjoy!**

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It had started raining. Of course it had, Teresa thought to herself as she wrapped her arms around her and continued her walk down the empty street. This whole night was turning into a nightmare. At this point all she wanted to do was take a very hot bath and then sleep for a day and a half.

But, first, she had to figure out where she was so she could begin planning how to _get_ home.

Her feet hurt and as she glared at the heels she had worn for the night memories flooded her mind.

-Words screamed as a fight broke out.

-Strong hands grabbing her bare arms and then her thighs as the fight escalated.

-Pushing him away and leaving the vehicle...

Teresa shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Didn't leave quickly enough," she muttered as she gingerly touched her swelling cheek. Yet left too quick to grab her coat and purse.

Up ahead she spotted some lights and began walking faster, hoping it was something open.

As she got closer she sent a prayer of thanks heavenward for the 24 hour diner she found at the street corner. She was aware she probably looked like a bruised, drowned rat so she pulled at the hem of her dress, squared her shoulders, and gathered her 'Agent Lisbon' authority. Several patrons turned to look at her as the bell above the door announced her arrival but she concentrated on the man wiping the counter. "You have a phone I can borrow?" she asked, wincing inwardly at how wavy her voice sounded.

The man looked up and nodded. "Pay phone round the corner next to the bathrooms."

She spread her hands away from her body and forced herself not to roll her eyes. "I have misplaced my purse."

"Here ya go, sweetie," the one waitress said as she reached into her pockets to get some change.

Teresa thanked her, grateful to the stranger and walked to where the man pointed. She entered her coins then dialed a number from memory before praying again. "Please pick up. Oh, please pick up your damn phone."

Her prayer was heard. "Yeah, Jane."

She slumped against the wall. "Oh, thank God," she said in relief.

"Lisbon!" the man exclaimed, extremely cheerful for that time of night. "You know, my dear, it doesn't say much about a woman's character to call one man while still out on a date with another. Not that I'm complaining," he quickly added.

Jane tended to be distracting and she was sucked into the drag of it. "Wait. How did you-?"

"Know you were on a date?" He chuckled. "Elementary, my dear Lisbon."

She shivered from being damp and immediately got back on track. "Jane, I need a favor and not a lot of questions."

He snorted. "Keep dreaming."

"Jane!" She winced at the whine her voice had in it. She cleared her throat. "I need you to come get me." She closed her eyes and could almost see him sit up at that confession, wheels turning, senses alert.

"Well, I _did_ _NOT_ expect _that_," he managed. "What did lover-boy do to piss you off?"

Her temper flared. "Jane, quit playing around. I don't have any more money for this phone. Are you coming or not?"

"You're on a _pay_ phone?" He must have heard her growl because he quickly added, "I'm coming, I'm coming. Where are you?"

"In some diner named Burt's."

"Describe the building."

"Um, blue and white awning. Brick, I think. Maybe a post office across the street."

"I'll find you."

"Jane?" she asked before he hung up.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Stay put."

She went into the bathroom to survey the damage. Her cheek _was_ puffy but not too noticeable _yet_ unless she turned to the side. The finger-sized bruised on her arms were already impressively turning purple. Same for her thighs but at least her dress covered those. She pushed her wet hair back, wishing for a ponytail holder, before making her way back to the main dining room. She eased into an empty booth that faced the door.

The waitress came up. "You get a hold of someone?"

"Yes. Someone's coming."

"How about I bring you some coffee while you wait?"

Teresa smiled at that. "That's the best thing I've heard all night."


	2. Chapter 2

Teresa was on her second cup of coffee, loving the warmth, when Patrick Jane walked through the diner door, causing her to shiver again. No one should look that perfect at this hour. He saw her immediately and gave her a smirk as he walked towards her booth, all of his attention seemingly on her.

"Lisbon!" he exclaimed, his bright eyes flitting from her cheek and arms quickly before meeting her eyes as he shrugged out of the jacket-part of his three piece suit and sitting down across from her. "Fancy meeting you here!"

Teresa rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her to get warm. "Yeah, a shock I'm sure."

"Here." He handed his jacket to her over the table. Before she could protest he added, "Come on, Lisbon. You're cold. There's no use denying it to me."

She took the garment with a scowl but put it on. It engulfed her, was soft, and very warm from Jane's body heat. She pushed the sleeves up enough to grab her coffee with both hands, as was her habit. Then she looed up to see her colleague perusing the menu. "You're hungry?"

He lifted a blond eyebrow. "You're not?"

She shook her head. "I ate earlier."

"I would assume that was before Michael turned into Ike Turner." He said it so nonchalantly only someone who knew him well would have caught the anger in his voice.

Teresa knew him well. "He's not without wounds." She showed her bruised knuckles off proudly.

Jane smiled. "That's my girl."

The waitress walked over then. "What can I get you, hon?"

Jane turned on the charm. "Well, I've never been here before. What do _you_ suggest?"

The waitress' smile grew impossibly bigger. "Well, the hamburgers and sandwiches are good _but_ we have this barbeque plate that's wonderful. The chef's from Memphis, Tennessee and knows what real BBQ should taste like."

Jane grinned. "Sounds perfect. I'll take it."

She looked at Teresa. "How about you, dear?"

Teresa shook her head. "Just a refill, thanks."

Jane rose. "I'm just going to wash my hands"

Once he was around the corner the waitress sighed. "That man is a living doll."

Teresa snorted. "Yeah, Chucky."

"It's the middle of the night, pouring rain, and he comes pretty immediate it seems. Don't take those kind of friends for granted."

She wanted to be pissed that a stranger was being so damn noisy but Jane reappeared then so she focused her irritation on him. "Why are we still here? I'm tired."

He just grinned at her crankiness. "Because I ordered food. And since I'm your ride for a change I suppose you'll just have to wait until I'm ready to go."

Her lip lowered into a sulk. "You're enjoying this, aren't you. This whole coming to the rescue thing."

"Meh," he answered with a shrug. "You're inability to be a damsel in distress tends to be more appealing."

She had to smile, allowing only one corner to come up. "Patrick Jane, did you just call me appealing?"

"You can take it as a simple fact, Lisbon, nothing more. I can honestly say I would never try to seduce you in a 24 hour diner in the middle of the night after you already confessed to roughing up your date."

She laughed.

Food having arrived he tasted his sandwich and rolled his eyes. "Lisbon, here, taste this." He handed over the food.

As she reached to snag some fries from Jane's plate she realized her night wasn't turning out so bad after all. Even if she _did_ have to be rescued by her pain-in-the-ass consultant- ok, and maybe her friend.


End file.
